


stop being so cute

by wynnyfryd



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Humor, M/M, One Shot, Potions, Potions Accident, Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Potions Shop Owner Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 07:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20239132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynnyfryd/pseuds/wynnyfryd
Summary: Draco goofs a potion. It's adorable.





	stop being so cute

**Author's Note:**

> For drabble prompt #42: "Stop being so cute."

Harry toed his dragonhide boots off at the hearth, brushed the soot from his shoulder, and considered passing out right there on the plush crimson rug of their living room. 

  
If he put up the hood on his Auror robes and lay face down, he thought, he'd almost blend right in. Just a quick notice-me-not charm and he might be able to get a solid catnap in before Draco came up from his lab in a strop, prodding Harry's cheek with a socked foot and launching into a _Merlin's sake, Potter, the gala is in an hour, and you haven't even bathed yet. I'm not taking an unwashed miscreant to a charity event; I don't care if he _is_ the bloody Savior of all wizard-kind._

  
Harry shook the fantasy and shucked his robes, tossing them over the coat rack. His right hand reached for the Weasley jumper he kept draped over his favorite armchair and touched cool leather instead.

  
He trudged upstairs, hoping Draco hadn't finally _incendio_-ed the poor thing. In truth, it was more a network of small holes and patches than a jumper at this point, but Harry loved the thumb holes at the wrist and the way Draco pretended not to stare at Harry's collarbone through the ripped neckline.

  
Not that Draco would ever admit to liking it. _There's a hole in the _armpit_, Potter, have some decorum._

  
Harry paused at the third floor landing, leaning heavily on the walnut banister as a wave of fatigue washed over him. One of these days he'd get around to connecting his floo to the coffee shop around the corner. Probably right after he got around to asking Molly to fix his jumper. Down the hall, light flickered and spilled from the cracked bedroom door, casting plum shadows on the faded wallpaper.

  
Well, shit.

  
Harry had hoped Draco would be so wrapped up in his latest experiments that he wouldn't notice Harry was home late again. He'd hoped he could slip into their room, dress himself in an exhausted haze, and avoid another one of his boyfriend's lectures on punctuality and _basic etiquette, Potter, honestly, who raised you?_

  
_Cupboard spiders, mostly_, Harry would reply with a smirk. 

  
Harry heard distressed muttering and the swish of rapid-fire charms as he approached. Tailoring charms, he guessed, amused. The tailor from Twilfitt had already stopped by three times this week to double-triple-_quadruple_ check the fit of the robes, but Draco was nothing if not detail-oriented when stressed. Harry knew he'd been fretting about this event for weeks.

  
He peered gingerly around the door, bracing himself for a scolding, and froze.

  
Across the green and gold room, a miniature Draco was furiously swirling his wand at his reflection, deflected spells bouncing off the mirror in bursts of blue and purple light. He was easily two feet shorter than his usual 6'2", his cheeks red and eyes watering more as each spell failed.

  
He was also, Harry noticed, wearing the missing Weasley jumper as a dress.

  
The hem fell to his knobby knees, the frayed sleeves engulfing his little hands and swinging limply as he cast. His wand was jammed through one of the thumb holes. He slashed it in a frantic zigzag and shot a turquoise beam right between his own eyes.

  
Draco's head and eyes swelled to cartoonish proportions while the rest of his body stayed the same. "Oh!" he cried, staring at his reflection in horror as his head kept growing. He looked like a chibi drawing, his cheeks and ears burning a bright tomato red. "Oh, gods! Stop looking so _cute_! I can't go to the ministry looking like this!"

  
Harry lost it.

  
He cackled at the ridiculous scene in front of him, eyes crinkling shut as he threw his head back.  
  
  
The distraught blond whipped around at the sound, Dobby-sized eyes going impossibly wider in alarm, and Harry barked out another startled laugh. Draco tried to pin him with a furious glower but only succeeded in making himself look even cuter.

"It's not funny, Potter!"

"It's --" Harry choked, bracing himself on the door frame as he doubled over. "It's not?"

"_Harry_," Draco pleaded. His eyes swam with tears as he turned back to the reflection mocking him from its ornate gold frame.

  
Harry straightened and did his best to school his features. _Definitely a better pick-me-up than coffee_, he snorted as he crossed the room to comfort his partner. He was certainly wide awake now, at least. He stood behind Draco and gave his shoulders a gentle squeeze. The top of Draco's massive head barely reached Harry's ribs. 

  
"I'm sorry, love," Harry said, voice full of mirth.

  
"It's really not funny," Draco pouted. "I look like, like one of your poppy heads from that Muggle shop."  
  
  
"You mean Pop Heads?"  
  
  
"Yes, those." 

  
Harry pressed his mouth into a tight line, his dimples peaking out as he fought another chuckle. "What exactly did you do to yourself?" he asked as he dropped to one knee behind Draco.

  
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be standing here looking like a bobble head an hour before the ministry gala, now would I?"  
  
  
"S'pose not," said Harry, plucking at the navy threads of the jumper. The neckline slipped off Draco's petite frame, catching at the crook of his elbow. "And your clothes are...?"  
  
  
"In the basement. Didn't want to get the potion on anything else."  
  
  
"What kind of potion, anyway? De-aging?"  
  
  
Draco rolled his tennis ball eyes, the effect not nearly as scathing as he intended. "Shrinking," he grumbled. "Must be the Arctic Willow that's keeping the enlarging charms from working properly. Resilient, stumpy little _fucker_."  
  
  
Harry snickered and smoothed Draco's hair against his enormous head. "Is there anything I can do to help, or do we just wait it out?" He wrapped one arm all the way around Draco's small waist.  
  
  
Draco swatted at his arm. It didn't budge. "You're just _loving_ this, aren't you?" he scowled at Harry's reflection.  
  
  
Harry hummed and hugged him tighter. "Loving what, darling, you looking like a doll? You finally wearing a Weasley jumper?" He rested his chin on Draco's shoulder. "_You_ being the short one for once?"  
  
  
"Oh, fuck you, Potter."  
  
  
"Now there's a thought."  
  
  
Draco sputtered. "You can't possibly want to-- _now?_ I look preposterous!"  
  
  
Harry's eyes crinkled at the corners again, the soft, yellow lamplight glinting off his teeth. Draco felt the rumble of Harry's warm belly laugh against his back, and the corner of his mouth lifted despite his best efforts to sulk. "Think you're so funny, don't you?" he smirked.  
  
  
"Who, me? _Of course_ not. Although..." Harry began, mischief glinting behind his glasses, "I do know a fun way we could kill time while we wait."  
  
  
"I am _not_ having sex with you like this, don't even think about--"  
  
  
Harry interrupted him by placing both palms flat against each side of Draco's head. He locked eyes with Draco in the mirror, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he gently pressed Draco's head to the right, then left. Right then left, making Draco's head bobble.  
  
  
Draco gaped, cheeks going hot with indignation. "Oh, you--!" His tiny hands clawed at Harry's wrists fruitlessly. "You absolute wanker!"  
  
  
Harry howled with laughter, his fingers tapping Draco's temples side to side. Draco did his best to kick Harry, the full force of his little heels landing the softest blows to Harry's thighs.  
  
  
"Stop that this _instant!_" Draco squawked.  
  
  
"No!" Harry wheezed through his laughter. When he could breathe again, he stilled Draco's head and plopped a kiss on his cheek with a wet smack. "Stop being so cute."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks @slytherinhoebeforecoffee on Tumblr for the prompt.  
Follow me on Tumblr @wynnyfryd for more dumb stuff.


End file.
